ANDROID AU my name, say it
by samalambis
Summary: Sam was angry, livid, hell; ferocious really. [noncon, top!sam/bottom!dean, pwp][android!au- sam died ten years ago due to a blood disease, dean, desperate to save him, studied profusely into bioengineering and AI research and 'brought' him back as an android. only problem is android!sam isnt the sam deans looking for, and android!sam is sick of the comparing]


Sam was angry, livid, hell; ferocious really. He never understood the human concept of being blindsided by rage, no matter how close to being flesh and blood Dean had made him. But he was done, he was fucking _done_ being compared to this Sam Winchester. He _was_ Sam Winchester, but fuck if he was the Sam that his creator knew.

So what was he to do, after returning home from the park (he liked the birds there, they were always so friendly) to hear his name being called? How was he to react to seeing Dean lying on his bed, calling out his name (oh but it wasn't _this_ Sam he was begging for now, was it?) while fondling himself, a high blush on his cheeks and eyes fluttered shut.

Perhaps he shouldn't have gotten so angry, but Sam thought Dean was getting better, Sam thought Dean was coming to love _him_ but clearly he was wrong. Clearly Dean was still chasing damned ghosts and even an android wasn't up for boxing against someone who wasn't even fucking there. So if this is what Dean wanted, carnality at its finest? Then so be it. This is what San would give him.

It was here, driven by blind rage for the first time Sam strode forward, and in a few instances that would surely dizzy a human Sam had Dean flipped onto his back, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock. One of his hands had taken the one Dean had palming the forming mound in his boxers and pinned it above his head, legs harshly kicking Dean's open no matter how desperately the inventor beneath tried to close them. He wasn't even close to Sam's strength; how could he even hope to stop him?

Leaning down with bared teeth (how human of him) he felt his skin crack with blue code, his eyes burning with a red hue as he chuckled harshly at the hand Dean had pushing up against Sam's chest. Little good it did when all it felt like was a child (and not even that) batting at his chest.

"S-Sam, what are you doing?" Dean stuttered out, fear lacing his voice and his eyes widening with all the possible situations as he looked up at the android, shame and terror rampant in his green hues.

Sam didn't bother to respond, huffing out as he let his free hand shove up Dean's - _Sam's, he was wearing Sam's_ \- button up, tearing the buttons and clenching hard enough to bruise the flesh of the wrist Sam currently had pinned down. Dean cried out in pain, and Sam liked that, he wanted Dean to suffer, so he clenched again, harder, felt the bones rut together in a satisfying fashion as tears began to form in Dean's eyes.

It wasn't until Sam successfully tore open the plaid shirt and brought a hand rough and hard down on Dean's quickly deflating dick that the inventor really started to struggle. Kicking hard with his legs and smashing his fist feebly against Sam's back and with an almost guttural growl, baritones mechanical and echoing the room he released Dean's pinned hand to grab at one flying leg and grip hard at the thighs base, forcing it back against Dean's chest as his other hand wrapped around the inventor's neck, tight and constricting, overbearing with the threat of more pressure.

" _Stop. Moving._ " He grit out, voice layering over itself in varying tones and even to himself it was unsettling, electricity crackling the air and shocking the flesh Sam had held firm beneath him. Dean froze then, hands falling limp at his sides as whimpers and cries of pain slipped between his lips. Eyes wide and reddened and his chest fluttering a mile a minute, tears a steady stream down his cheeks and Sam could only think _good, you deserve this_ as he watched Dean panic beneath him. With purposeful cruelty Sam dug his fingers into the meat of Dean's thigh, feeling the flesh give out and he knew he left small crescent wounds (blood welling and falling in small graceful drops), his hand on Dean's neck doing the same as they drew back to seek out more meaningful pursuits.

One hand moving to press hard at the center of the inventor's chest (until even _that_ bruised), thumb scraping the nearest nipple as Sam's other hand went to pull Dean's mostly soft cock out of the shorts, giving it hard, borderline painful strokes as he stared down in disgust at Dean. Deep seated anger unfurling somewhere in the calculations of his mind as even now Dean's hips twitched fruitlessly into the harsh pulls. Disgusting, truly.

"Is this what you want, Dean?" He asked, kindness absent as he yanked the shorts off of Dean, pushing unresisting (almost frighteningly so) legs flush against Dean's chest; the only sounds of discomfort soft cries tearing from Dean's bruised throat. Not bothering to prep himself or Dean the android positioned his cock at Dean's entrance, hooking the inventor's legs with rough hands over his shoulders.

"Is this what you _need_?" He growled into Dean's neck as he pushed into the tight warmth of his creator, biting down hard on Dean's neck until he felt the skin break and blood warm the cool metal of his teeth as Dean choked out hurt noises, his hands clenching with pain as he gasped and tried to bend as far away as he could from Sam. But there was no escape, Sam pressing in to the hilt and leaving Dean unbearably full and burning with a terrible ache that made him think idly he must have torn inside when Sam pulled out to give a harsh shove back in with how it was just that fraction smoother with blood soothing the path.

"Couldn't bear to live without your baby brother's dick in you, could you?" He spoke, voice whirring cogs and smashing gears. "This is why you made me, isn't it? Made me just to have this cock back in you." With each cruelty lashed Dean's way Sam matched it with brutal pace, hands pinning Dean's limp ones to the bed and black-red eyes staring at the twisted expression on the inventor's face. Pain and terror the bark of everything, but the high flush a mark of lingering arousal and Sam didn't want that, he wanted it gone. He wanted more tears and pained whimpers and with that in mind he gripped the base of Dean's cock, fingers rough as they coiled the soft thing and gave purposeful tugs. Dean was going to enjoy this, Sam would force him to, because Sam knew nothing would hurt Dean more than getting off on this.

And Sam wanted Dean to hurt.

"Say my name." Sam demanded, staring directly into Dean's eyes and delighting in the fear he found evident there.

"S-Sam." Dean stuttered out quietly, breathless, and Sam leaned down to bite at his lips, swelling them and leaving them sore and bruised. Small cuts bled there; punishment for saying the wrong name.

"Say _my_ name, Dean, not his." And Dean did this time, said it scared and hurt just like Sam wanted and Sam rewarded him with smoother thrusts and a condescending pet to the head.

"Good boy."

Even though Sam's hand was cruel and quick, Dean reluctantly hardened and when Sam demanded he come Dean did, came like a fucking sailor with the strangest broken yell that almost made Sam feel bad. Almost. Sam himself didn't need to come, Dean hadn't figured that out yet. Except he managed out how to make a cock work and how to allow Sam pleasure from the damned thing which only made Sam feel more used than ever (even if this was the first the 'gifts' have been used). He was just some sort of fuck toy, wasn't he? Dean just couldn't go without and now Sam has to deal with the fuckers inability to let go.

"How many times did Sam get to see this, huh? How many times he fuck you right here until you couldn't even see straight, Dean, can you tell me? Or did I do a good enough job of fucking you like he did?" Sam was still inside Dean as he spoke, glaring at the glassy, betrayed eyes of Dean that were red rimmed and a heart clenching swill of emotions.

It took a few moments for Dean to realize Sam was looking for an actual answer, and so with a rough swallow and too many harsh gasps Dean managed to get his voice box working as he lay limp and sore (broken) beneath Sam.

"W-we never. Sam was, was, we n-never did anything." He spoke in an annoyingly soft voice, riveted with fear and pain and it only angered Sam more that Dean would dare lie to him now, even after Sam gave him just what he wanted.

"Bullshit, give me the truth." His voice was low, corded through with a mechanical tone and Dean looked visibly shaken by the force with which it traveled through him.

"No, Sam, he, he was a-always t-too sick and I, I, I've never, this. I'm." Dean was stuttering now, harsh babbles as he began to shake violently beneath the android, tears rejuvenating in force as Dean looked horribly broken in more ways than one.

"I-I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, please stop being angry, please, I'm sorry." Came first in a disjointed tone that made Sam's core feel cold.

"I-it's my fault, I'm sorry; I'm disgusting I'm horrible just please stop, please, I'm scared." Followed after, desperation lacing his words.

"You're hurting me, It's too much, I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Please just let me go." Dean babbled on, voice hoarse and scared and filled to the brim with a balanced mix of betrayal and terror and something clicked then in Sam's mind, in the small chip that helped him come to these actions and all at once his anger crashed down.

And then for the first time Sam felt disgust, a different kind, a kind reserved specially for oneself.

Sam learned self hatred as he yanked out of Dean, the pit feeling worsening at the broken whimper Dean let out as Sam ran out of the room, cock hastily tucked away as he tore out of the house; away from the wretched pants and cries of Dean and away from the place of which he committed such atrocity. Away from the bad bad thoughts and the reality of what he had done.

 _Fuck_ , what had he just done?


End file.
